A Killing in China Basin - By Kirk Russell Page 0,8

and also called the Southern precinct to try to reach the responding officers, Garcia and Taylor, to question them about what spectators they might have talked to. He reached the younger officer, the tow-headed blond, Taylor, who after some coaxing admitted he’d talked to a couple of spectators. Said it was his first murder and he was sorry.

Then, as they were still waiting and walked down the street to get coffee, la Rosa turned and said, ‘I have to tell you something about me that happened right at the end of my senior year in high school. I try not to let it, but sometimes it still affects me. It was in late May at the start of the Memorial Day weekend. The weather had turned warm and we had finals ahead of us, but we knew we were done, so the parties were getting a little wild. I had just turned eighteen and there was this guy I’d always had a crush on. I was drunk, so was he, but I wasn’t ready to have sex with him. He held me down and raped me. Until you know that feeling of powerlessness and violation, you can’t know what rape is.

‘The next day I went by his house and when he opened the door I broke his nose with a piece of pipe. I heard he made up a story about falling off his mountain bike and he was such a dipshit he probably forgot about it all by the end of the summer. But me, I’m still angry. If he crossed the street in front of me, I’d run him over.’

‘Maybe you should talk to somebody.’

‘Yeah, I tried that. I’d rather kill him.’

‘Great.’

In China Basin, less than half a mile from the building, Rescue One divers set up to search a grid pattern. Four divers went into the water, their lights glowing from fifteen feet down where they found a black plastic purse that long ago had filled with bay mud. They searched for an hour and a half and didn’t find any of the things Heilbron described.

The on-call judge barely looked at the search warrant before signing it. They drove from his house to Heilbron’s. They pulled on latex gloves and Raveneau unlocked the front door with the key Heilbron had given them. He turned on a light. Before they stepped over the threshold, la Rosa asked, ‘Why did he tell us about the rape?’

‘Because it proves he could do the China Basin killing, that he’s got the stuff. Or maybe he’s testing himself and wants to see what it feels like to take ownership for a killing. I think he knows we’ll dead-end and he’ll walk.’

‘But, why do it? He’s going to lose his job. You know they’ll fire him. What’s he going to do next?’

‘That may be something to worry about. He may have built up to this point and he’s ready to move forward.’

‘That’s what I’m worried about, too.’

Raveneau pointed at the TV. ‘Let’s turn it on and see if they included our victim on the evening news. I didn’t see anything last night. I’ll check the refrigerator to see if there’s any beer.’

‘You don’t mean that, do you?’

No, he didn’t mean it about the beer, and they’d go methodically room to room. But he was serious about the TV. He found the remote and turned it on.

SEVEN

Raveneau surfed through the local news stations and then left the TV on Channel 4. Near an armchair facing the TV, six porno magazines were stacked under a copy of Sports Illustrated. Three of the magazines featured women on women.

‘Bed is a like a rat’s nest,’ la Rosa called. ‘Come look at this.’

When he did, Raveneau saw only the rumpled sheets of a man living alone. The oddest thing was how clean the bathroom was. In his medicine cabinet was a prescription for antidepressants. He took a photo of the prescription label and they worked their way slowly through the bedroom again.

When a TV station anchor announced a murder in China Basin they moved out to listen.

‘Police are seeking help identifying the body of a woman found in China Basin Wednesday night . . .’

Pretty good coverage, thirty-five, forty seconds, more than he’d hoped for. Raveneau clicked to Channel 5, listened to part of a report of a three-alarm fire underway in the Richmond, and then started in on a hall closet. They didn’t find anything in Heilbron’s house, but his van looked promising. The crime lab would